Everything and Nothing At Once
by hangthesilver
Summary: Axel’s less concerned about the blood in Roxas’s eyes than he is about the gun in his hand. Next life, zombies.


**Title:** Everything and Nothing At Once  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Genre:** Horror/Angst/Next life/Romance (I have no idea what to put here)  
**Word Count**: 5, 015  
**Disclaimer:** KH belongs to Squeenix; lines from _The Hollow Men_ go to T.S. Eliot.  
**Warnings:** There are zombies (no flesh eating), too long sentences, not enough blood, and lots of water.  
**Summary:** Axel's less concerned about the blood in Roxas's eyes than he is about the gun in his hand.

**Author's Notes:** This is about zombies. Or rather, the aftermath of zombies.

This is a result of listening to too much Lydia (sea) and Margot and the Nuclear So and So's (yearning). Also, because of Resident Evil (zombies). This is more or less a condensed version of a 17k zombie fic I wrote last year that was much more detailed, much more graphic, and much more developed. I ultimately stopped working on it because A) I had two versions in my head and wrote the one I liked the least and B) it really made no sense. I still may, one day, revive the better version I have in my head but it's doubtful. If you want the one I worked on just give a shout, I can provide.

On a side note, I really should probably go to sleep sometime before 8 am most days. It's starting to make me a zombie. DUNDUN. –shotshotshot-

Didn't have a beta on this, so really, any concrit would be most welcome.

* * *

"You're going to have to kill me," Roxas said, and his world, or whatever was left of it, fell apart.

* * *

He was frozen in the surf, he could feel it ebbing away and backward, underneath his fingers, underneath his legs. It was cold, and it hurt, and he could see particles of nothing in the water, particles of nothing and everything. The sea doesn't forgive, the sea doesn't forget, at least, not for him, and the gulls, well, they certainly don't forget either. It's everything, and it's nothing, all at once.

"Don't forget those Magnum rounds," Xigbar said, and his voice was tight, deep, snared.

"Do you think I'm a fucking idiot?" Axel asked, but grabbed them anyway, stuffed them into his pocket, and he wondered. Maybe, if he were out in the open and Xigbar saw that and was going to die, if he'd shoot him, shoot his pocket, and then Axel, he imagined, would explode, and probably take a dozen or so fuckers with him.

A dozen was paltry. Maybe he should stuff the other pocket too.

"No, I think you're just fucking forgetful," Xigbar countered, nearly quietly, almost lightly, and then dipped out of the store, into the bright lights outside.

Axel looked at the other rounds spread across the table, some nirvana, maybe, or maybe just a dump filled with empty refrigerators. So much potential, futile potential, and he grabbed two more handfuls, stuffed one into the other pocket, stuffed more into the ones near his knee, and then more into the back.

Xigbar could shoot him if he had to. At least he'd be damn pretty when it ended.

* * *

"It's not like any of it's real anyway," Roxas said, putting down the newspaper, and pouring himself another cup of coffee. Axel thought it was fancy, it came in a little brown bag, and the grounds were fine, coarse like gravel, but fine like sand, and that was funny, so it must be fancy. Also because it cost more than Axel's tea did.

"Maybe we should stock up, you know, just in case," Axel said, pulling the newspaper toward him, re-reading what he'd seen a dozen times already. Blood. Haz Mat. Monroeville. It was all there, black and white, plain as day, and Roxas wasn't worried, Roxas just poured himself a cup of coffee, poured in the milk, spooned in the sugar, sugar as fine as the grounds, coarse like gravel, and leaned against the counter.

"On what Axel, stakes?"

"That's vampires Roxas," Axel said, looking up at him, concerned. "What are you, 12?"

Roxas grew red, and that was adorable, because his cheeks spotted up, red and high, and his ears went pink, and that was just more adorable than words. Except for adorable. And maybe sexy. But not sexy in the "I will take you right here on the counter way." More in the "let's make dinner and drink wine and then do it in the bathroom" way. Axel wasn't foolish enough to think that they'd last long enough to reach the bedroom.

"I fail to see how that makes me 12," Roxas said, trying to sound miffed. "If anything, I think that makes _you_ twelve."

Axel shook his head, stood up, put down the paper, culled away the edge of panic, and leaned against Roxas on the counter, where Roxas scoffed, tried to resist, but put down the cup anyway, leaning into Axel, and they were quiet, steady breaths. Axel looked down the curve of Roxas's back, pressed against the counter, and saw the marbled countertop, and there were spots on that too, the coffee grounds, spread out thinly, a smattering here and there and sugar.

"You make such a mess," Axel said. "You better clean it up."

Roxas made a noise. "I might, if you got off me."

"No, do it now."

"We should stock up on wooden stakes. I can get you while you're sleeping."

"As long as you clean up the coffee, we're golden."

"Dork," Roxas breathed, and pressed into Axel then, and Axel realized he was quivering, oh so finely.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Roxas said, and there was nothing in his voice, just everything. "Nothing."

Axel closed his eyes, leaned in, and thought that this was more than enough fancy for one day.

* * *

"You think it's because of the salt?"

"Stop talking to me."

"Really, though, we should be dead by now—"

Axel got up, stretched his legs, prowled over to the window, to the hole carved into the boards. He heard the dim roar, could see just barely the surf thrashing forward, hitting the ground, moving on, falling back and then pushing forward once more. It was steady, constant, and all that crap about a world ending and nothing changing. Nothing happening.

Nothing had happened in that sea, but there were memories, and there were birds in the gray sky. The wind rustled sometimes. And sometimes there was silence.

"You got that shotgun Dem?"

"Yea Riku, I got it."

"Good. Axel."

Quiet pause, and sometimes silence, but not now.

"_Axel._"

Maybe underneath the ocean, there was always silence. Maybe that's what mattered. Maybe that was the only thing that had ever mattered.

"We're leaving, give me—"

"Calm down Chief, I'm ready." Axel turned, flipped open the jacket, showed him the holsters, and then grabbed the rifle by the door. "Let's do this."

Riku was dubious, all gray hair and burning eyes, and a sick, detached, empty slackness about his jaw.

"Whatever. Let's go."

There was empty in his words too, and Demyx and Axel went to the door, lifted the brace, set it aside softly, unbolted the lock, and pushed it open. The breeze rushed in, the smell, and Axel closed his eyes, remembering something blue, and opened them, hazy, detached, empty slackness. There was sand in front of him now, fancy sand, coarse and fine and crunching underneath his boots. He could see the ocean, and it waved.

Riku told him to pay attention, and he paid attention to what mattered, and it wasn't Riku.

* * *

"Wish we had some stakes now, huh?"

"You're so not funny," Roxas said, and sighed, curling up onto himself. Axel crawled over, settled himself close, and Roxas leaned into him, all weight and quivers.

"This is really not cool Axel," he said, sort of low, and Axel stroked his hair, kissed his temple.

"Roxas, you are seeing something no other generation has seen before. Take a moment. Take in the significance. You are _awesome_ and part of history. Come on. It's better than sex."

Roxas looked up at him reproachfully.

"Not better than sex with me," Axel amended, "but better than sex, in general."

"I may have to punch you in the face," Roxas said, still all low and silky, "next time. Is it bad that's probably the sexiest thing I've ever heard you say?"

"Being humble is one of my better qualities," Axel said modestly.

"Yea right."

"No, it's the truth. I can't top history, can I? What kind of man would I be if that debauchery occurred?"

"Probably more of a man than now."

Axel hugged him more tightly, stroked his hair a little bit more. "Thought about going to the beach yesterday," he said, almost to himself.

"It was all gray yesterday," Roxas said, immediately. "Why'd you want to go yesterday?"

"Gray days remind me of you."

"Well that's flattering. My complexion isn't normally this bad, you jerk, really—"

"No. Talking about when I first met you."

"You always were the sap," Roxas whispered, knowingly.

"I resent that."

"Don't. It fits you very well."

Axel said nothing, closed his eyes, and said, "I thought you were an asshole."

"You're the one who lost your cat."

"I'm trying to tell you a story."

"I'm a major player in this story, I don't need to hear it."

"As I was saying, I thought you were an asshole. Kind of cute, yea, but an asshole. I mean, what kind of boy doesn't help a poor, innocent, equally as hot if not hotter boy find a poor little lost kitten?"

"Pepper isn't innocent. Or lost." Roxas's voice ached.

"But I got you around eventually. And then I took you to the beach. And you told me you were afraid of water, and I told you that was probably the cutest thing I'd ever fucking heard, and then you said other stuff I don't remember, but it must have been cute."

"I don't remember either. Probably because it was cute. Or I was trying to get into your pants."

"Roxas, Roxas, I was trying to get into your pants. Not the other way around."

"Suit yourself."

"And it worked, didn't it?"

There was a thumping upstairs, and some sort of horrible cry, and Roxas jerked, nearly cried out, and then clutched Axel even more tightly. Axel bit the side of his cheek hard enough to cause his eyes to water in pain, and clutched Roxas back.

"This isn't the end Roxas," Axel whispered, as the thumping overhead continued. "We're not over."

"Feels like it," Roxas whispered, thickly. "Kind of really feels like it, Ax."

"Nope. We kind of go on and on together, you and I. I'll wake up somewhere, and you're going to be next to me. I might be a monk next time around, but you can come back and sleep next to me anytime."

"This isn't a game Axel," Roxas said, and his voice was sort of watery. "Stop trying to make me feel good and just hold me."

"Truth, though. It is. The monk thing, I mean. I mean, I know I'll probably be all committed to the order and whatever, but I mean, I'd have to cheat just a little, and with a man too, oh, how scandalous. But you'd be too cute to resist."

"The fact that you're talking quite calmly while we're about to die is unnerving," Roxas said in a nearing high pitched tone. "But okay, I'll bite."

"Good, now are you more worried about the scandal, or the—"

"I'm not just _cute_,i you know. I have other endearing qualities as well."

"You have a nice ass too."

There was a horrible rattle, something flew against another wall, and there was more screaming, and Axel shut his eyes into Roxas's hair, holding him heavy. The bangs were loud, and the voices were pitchy, desperate, made no sense. It was hungry and unearthly, and Roxas scrabbled at Axel's arm, dug his nails in.

"Not just that," came Roxas's barely there voice. "I mean, my ribs, ever seen my ribs, they're ace too."

Axel smiled, a tight, needy, everything smile. "I know Roxas. I know."

More thumping, more savage sounds, and Roxas said, "So, I think we should get up."

"I like where I am thanks."

"Come on, up you get." Roxas was shaking, still shaking in Axel's arms, but he moved, picked himself up, as the house around them shook hard. Something in the distance was rumbling, like some giant was walking, or there was an earthquake but it was steady, so steady. The house was shaking, and Roxas pulled him away, into the opposite end, and then the wall they'd been crouching against blew up.

It was the military, or at least, it was a convoy of thirty men, two Gatling guns, and some twelve other people with nowhere to go and smeared blood on their hands. They'd seen the white sheet outside and proceeded with the most logical way of seeing if anyone was still alive—by blowing up the side of the house. Axel didn't really get it. He held Roxas, wanted to know how he'd known, and Roxas kissed him back, and then said, very simply, "I know how things work now."

* * *

It was dawn, and they crept along the sand like bandits, all swathed in black and silence, stealthy.

The beach swallowed them up, a protector, a home.

The sea, as usual, saw everything.

* * *

"I know what's going to happen, it's not going to stop," Roxas said, and his voice was calm, eerily calm.

"Shut up," Axel hissed, and threw his sweater around him, physically yanking Roxas's arms into it. "We're going to get it fixed, it's going to be okay, don't—"

"Axel. Calm. Down." He took Axel's wrists, looked into his eyes, and then down, drawing up his sleeve, gingerly unwrapping the bloody bandage. His skin was already blackening, and the blood was still fresh, still nauseously red, and Axel started crying.

"Nononono, we can fix it Roxas, we can I can _fix_ it, let's cut it off, it'll hurt, I'll hold your hand, and hey, we can make jokes for the rest of our lives and—"

"Axel, stop it. It's already in my blood. I have an hour, if that."

"NO, Roxas, no, we can fix it, please please please stop talking like that, you'll be fine, _please _listen to me, it's going to be fine and—"

Roxas wrapped it back up, secured the knot, yanked down the arm of the sweater, and looked up at Axel, up and up, and sort of smiled. "Axel," he said, very lightly. "Axel, it's going to be fine. You're going to be fine. I can't… I can't do this anymore. "

Axel was still crying. "Yes you can, yes you can, _yes you can._"

Roxas's eyes were hard now, and his voice, while gentle, was steady. "I'm going to the beach. You can't come with me."

"You can't tell me what to do, asshole, don't you even dare—"

"I am going to the beach. You're staying here. I can't take you with me, you're still fine. I just want to see the water one more time."

"Stop talking like that!"

"And you can't come with me. Just..I don't have a lot of time, okay, come here." Roxas reached for him, but Axel firmly batted his arms away, grabbed his hand, clasped it, didn't let go.

"I know," he whispered, "I know, I know, I know, but I'm not letting you walk out there by yourself. I'm not letting you go out there to die."

"I'm dying anyway."

Axel swallowed, licked at the tears on his lips, imagined salt and sand and fine, fancy coffee.

"Doesn't matter, you're not going alone. Can't… leave you alone Roxas."

Roxas said nothing, and then nodded. "Okay. Fine. Get your gun. And whatever else you need. We're not… you're not going to be able to make it back here, probably."

"I don't want to anyway."

Again Roxas said nothing, looked down at his arm, and then up at Axel, thoughtfully.

"You're going to have to kill me."

* * *

The newest trophy came from the pier, and it was a fishing pole, tacklebox included. Just sitting there. Untouched. They took it, and Xigbar set up the line, let it dangle over the edge with the bait, and kept it steady, securing it.

They found cans in the house seven down to the right from their bunker, water, no new ammo, but a bow and arrow, which Axel took. Demyx took a guitar, Riku some books, and Xigbar three bottles of whiskey, and went back to the bunker, ready to drop their stuff off, ready to call it a day. They were slowly working through the deserted houses, one every few days, less if they didn't need anything new. It was safer that way. Less excursions equaled less time spent outside equaled less time in the open equaled less time as food. It was slow going, and it was only either during the cloudy days, or mostly at night. The main mess didn't wander this way much, and when they did, it was only when the tide shifted a certain way, or so they tried to measure.

The almanac, though, must have been wrong.

They holed up in the last house that they'd raided, pushed the bookshelf against the door, and shot the last thing in the head through the window.

Axel was glad that Xigbar had nobly resisted the urge to set him on fire.

More showed up, but Riku found gasoline in the basement, and they burned some books out the back, smoked them into confusion, and shot them all in the face. There was blood, and Demyx tried to clean while Riku made food. Axel sat in a stool on the bar, and when Demyx was gone, Axel pulled up his sleeve to show Riku his arm.

Riku's eyes were solemn, but the hand on the gun on the counter was steady.

"I want to go to the beach," Axel said, simply. "They're gone now. Let's go the pier first, okay?"

"I can just let you go alone," Riku said, almost easily.

"But you won't."

"Why's that?"

"I know how things work now," Axel said, calmly.

Riku gazed at Axel's arm, and then turned back to the stove, turned off the heat, and put away the cans he'd neatly arranged out. He picked up the gun, examined it, and Axel methodically emptied his pockets on the table, all of them, until the Magnum bullets lined the counter in a neat row.

"I wanted to go boom," he explained when he saw Riku's mystified expression.

"Of course," Riku murmured, and then checked the clip on the ones at his side, and then the one at his ankle. He took a deep, shuddering sigh that seemed to go through his entire body as he returned his gaze to Axel's face. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," Axel said, and got off the stool, headed toward the door. "You're going to have to kill me."

* * *

Axel had met Roxas on a gray day nowhere near the beach, with his cat up a tree. Roxas had helped him get Pepper down. Roxas had also ended up with shoes hosed down by an overeager fire department, and he and Roxas had shared ice cream at the parlor while Axel tried to make amends for his wrongs. Roxas never forgave him for the loss of his shoes, but learned to forgive a lot of other things, like the occasional smoking, the shirts with the stupid logos on them, the slight snoring, the bony wrists, the never manageable hair, the apathy, the fire obsession, the urge to step on birds, the affliction of never being able to eat any type of gum but pomegranate, the most boring last name in the history of the world. Roxas forgave him for a lot of things, but the shoes, well, the shoes, never.

The day they walked to the beach the sky was cloudy again, but Pepper was already dead.

* * *

The day they walked to the beach, it was dark out.

They went brisk, and Axel stepped in the waves, felt the water lap around his ankles, cold, clean, fresh. It came and went, didn't forgive, and the gulls, they didn't forgive much either. Nothing really forgave anymore in this world. Especially not in this world, but Axel thought there were other worlds now. He understood a lot more now.

Imminent death, maybe, had something to do with that.

"Should probably go check on the fish," Riku said, uneasily, characteristically.

"Probably," Axel agreed, and Riku took off, went up the pier, to where Xigbar had set up the fishing line. Axel hadn't said goodbye; there really wasn't a need. Demyx would be sad, and so would Xigbar, in a way, but they had each other, and they had life left. Nothing like having life left, really.

He saw Riku on the pier, and then he sat down, in the wave, felt the wind toss his hair around lazily, and closed his eyes. His back hurt, but the sand was cold, gritty, a constant beat, constant drumming. He wasn't going boom. Maybe he should have kept those shells in his pocket after all.

* * *

Roxas sat in the beach and Axel tried to stop crying.

* * *

Riku returned a few moments later, and there was awe on his face. Nirvana.

"We got a fish," he declared he came up to Axel, standing a few feet behind him.

"Well you don't say, the fishing line caught a fish. That's almost like a tennis net catching a ball. Remarkable."

"Smartass," Riku muttered, and set down the tacklebox and the pole. The wind buffeted his hair around, made it flow around his face like a mane, like a halo. Riku wasn't bad, Axel thought. Riku had lost something very important to him, but Axel hoped he found it one day. Axel had a feeling it was just a temporary thing. Painful, but temporary, and reunions were beautiful than miracles most days.

He knew what he was talking about, now.

"Don't want you to feel bad about this," he said, his voice nearly lost on the wind.

"I don't," Riku said.

There wasn't a need for either of them to correct that.

* * *

"I do," Axel said, and the tears on his face were frozen by the wind.

"Don't feel bad, Axel. Please don't."

"You might as well just ask me to stop breathing," Axel snapped, wanting to throw the gun into the water, wanting it to be lost at sea, forever. Sink to the bottom of the sea floor, and good riddance.

"I don't want this to happen to you, Ax. You don't have to go through it."

"You're not a hero, Roxas."

"I would like not to be," Roxas said, quietly.

"You're not a lamb. I can't… I can't kill you Roxas, I fucking love you, how the fuck can you even ask me to shoot you?"

"I love you too Axel," Roxas said, evenly. "So that's why you have to kill me."

"You're so retarded," Axel argued, taking out the gun, holding it up over his head. "I don't… I can't, you stupid fuck, I can't."

"Yes you will."

"You don't know shit Roxas, shut the fuck up. I fucking _love_ you."

"I know. You already did this for me once, Axel. Let me do it for you."

"What the fuck are you talking about you stupid idiot? Get up, get up, let's go back."

"I love you Axel. I always have. I always will. Even when we're Tibetan monks, it's the same thing, backwards and forward, everything."

"This obviously means nothing to you," Axel said abrasively, pushing into the waves and dropping to his knees besides Roxas as the sea roar dulled out their voices. "I can't shoot you Roxas. I fucking can't."

Roxas was nonplussed, and reached forward, and held Axel's hand, in a wet, sandy grip. "Yes. Yes you can. You will because you love me."

"I can't believe you, you fucking idiot. I can't fucking believe you."

"You're going to be fine." Roxas lifted Axel's hand up, out of the waves, pointed the gun against his head, and Axel looked into Roxas's eyes, into that blue and now the quickly expanding blood red.

"You did this for me once," Roxas whispered. "I'm going to do it for you."

"How is this going to help me?" Axel was crying again.

"You'll find out," Roxas said, and he smiled, and it was beautiful. "You'll find out."

Axel closed his eyes, and he shuddered, and smelled the salt on the breeze, and the gun in his hand and it was different, so different.

* * *

The sun was starting to come up.

"Gonna fry up that fish?"

If Riku was startled, he didn't show it. "Yea. Real food? Meat? Of course. Wish I had a grill. I was a master griller, back in the day."

"Before all this?"

"No, way back in the day. Don't expect you to understand, young one."

"You're full of it."

"Sometimes," Riku conceded.

* * *

He was in the waves when they found him, holding nothing but the ruined gun and himself up, but barely.

They dragged him in, thawed him out, gave him clothes, and a week later he was conscious again, lips still swollen, and screaming every night. A week after that they gave him another gun and took him out and he shot a lot of things and it made him feel better.

Sometimes at night he woke up, crept outside into a battleground full of nothing but nothings, and sat in the waves, and tried to find that spot, that one spot, but it eluded him every time, and he ended up crying in the water until Riku pulled him out and warmed him up again.

* * *

"His name's Sora, but I guess you already know that," Riku said, casually.

Axel contemplated. "I was thinking more Sara."

"That vowel's always trouble." Riku moved up, so he was standing next to Axel in the gently sloping waters. "And yours? Reason you were dead when we found you?"

"Well at least I wasn't all the way dead," Axel said, even though it made no sense.

"If you say so." Riku was unconcerned.

* * *

It took him an indefinite amount of time to stop yelling in his sleep, even longer to stop creeping out into the ocean to ask questions to the birds.

They shot a lot of things, got a lot of half answers from the radio, made a lot of jokes about removing heads and shooting spleens. Xigbar tried to grow a weed plant, it failed due to lack of sunlight, and Demyx tried to make a guitar from fish wire and a chair. Riku started teaching himself Russian, and Axel taught himself to stop counting days.

* * *

"If this is the end of the world," Riku said without preamble, "this kind of sucks."

"Probably comes with the territory. I was hoping more 2012 though. You know, to be dramatic."

Riku considered. "Whatever. I think this is dramatic enough."

"And you dropped out from mall security. I see the flaw in your opinion there."

Riku kicked him in the thigh, gently. "You suck at cards."

"You suck at Russian."

"When we get out of this, I'm getting myself a hot Russian babe using that Russian, my friend."

"A babe?"

"I use the term loosely." Riku suddenly flopped down into the ocean with a quick glance into Axel's eyes; apparently it was still safe, or so he estimated, even if the sun was getting higher and higher every second. "Kind of pretty here," he said. "Guess if the world ends anywhere, it's nice for it to end somewhere…nice."

"There are nicer places to kick it," Axel said.

"Somewhere less wet, I guess." They were silent, and then Riku continued, "Maybe like in space. With robots."

"Robots," Axel said, as though tasting the world, feeling it with his tongue, exploring the context, the grooves, the weight, the reason. "You know, I think I'd prefer robots over our brand of hell, to be honest."

"Yea, they don't have copious amounts of blood. All those movies were about computers taking over, why didn't it happen first?"

"Scientists are evil."

"That they were. Ah well." Riku looked up at the slowly darkening sky. "Next time, maybe."

* * *

They found a girl once, and she had cancer.

They took to caring for her, because there was no doctor, and because she was so lonely, and frightened, and there was no way she was making it out of this alive. She had been wandering very far out, and they wondered how she had lived through it all, the day the world ended. There were little answers, because she was feverish, but they found her in a car, tucked away headed west toward the sea, and Axel figured everyone wanted escape sometime.

* * *

"You should probably get back," Axel said, casting a very stern glance over at Riku. "Sun's coming up, and the tide's supposed to be high."

"Almanac lied the other day," Riku said easily.

"Shouldn't count your ducks before they hatch."

"I could go for some duck right now."

"Your fish is gonna get bad."

"No one's gonna mind. What, this beach ain't big enough for the two of us?"

Axel merely smiled. "That's exactly it, hot stuff."

"Well too bad," Riku said, and he smiled too, but it was tired, very tired, and of all the nothings in the world, everything could be read in that smile.

* * *

Demyx sang to her, in her fevered state, and Xigbar tried super hard to grow his plants to take away her pain but it really didn't work, even with his renewed determination. Riku recited his Russian to her, told her she was beautiful in slow, awful pronunciation, told her she was lovely, in slow, awful pronunciation, and told her it was going to be okay, in perfect, accentuated language.

Axel sat by her bed, said nothing for the first few days, and then he started talking, about trees and cats and sunsets and love and beaches and eternity and nothing and everything, and when he was done, she had opened her eyes, her red-blue eyes, and smiled, and said, "I know how things work now."

* * *

The barest trace of night remained, and the sky was beautiful.

Riku stood up, looked down at Axel's red-green eyes, and seemed to shiver, to shake, shake, shake.

"I really don't want to do this," he muttered, looking down at the gun in his palm. "Just so you know."

"Get over it," Axel said, lazily.

"Shut up Axel." He raised the gun, pointed it at Axel's head, and Axel saw it shake, shake, shake.

"This is the way the world ends," Axel said, and closed his eyes.

* * *

"Not a bang," Namine said.

"With a whimper," Axel finished for her, quickly.

And the girl smiled. "No," she said. "No, not with that either."

"So then what?" he asked, thinking about him, always thinking about him, and what he meant, and if he would ever, ever know, and that ached and ached, and always ached.

"It doesn't end," Namine said, and her eyes were mischievous, and her smile tired, but it full of nothing, full of everything, all at once. "It doesn't end at all."


End file.
